


The Art Of Baking

by SlimeQueen



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Creampie, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Only sex, Smut, Vietnamese Translation Available, there is no baking involved, this is like.. crack disguised as smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:02:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimeQueen/pseuds/SlimeQueen
Summary: Johnny knows that Ten’s been lurking on twitter more and more often lately, but nothing could have prepared him for the words, “Johnny hyung, what’s a creampie?”





	The Art Of Baking

**Author's Note:**

> i'd like to apologize in advance to mark lee lmao  
> Read in Vietnamese [here](https://www.wattpad.com/story/154057142-the-art-of-baking)  
> Please don't repost my work on other websites without my permission, thanks!

Johnny knows that Ten’s been lurking on twitter more and more often lately, but nothing could have prepared him for the words, “Johnny hyung, what’s a creampie?”

Johnny chokes. It’s seven in the morning and they’re sitting at the kitchen table in the 127 dorm, Johnny sipping at a cup of coffee, Ten pulling his laptop out to switch between monitoring his newest dance practice video and being in the depths of twitter. Ten’s face is clear of mischief, genuine curiosity obvious in his guileless eyes.

It is at this point in time that Johnny realizes he has two options. Answer Ten straight up and tell him what he’s talking about is not, in fact, a pastry, or he can evade the question for as long as possible. And because Johnny is a coward, he chooses the latter option.

“Where did you hear that?” He asks, carefully setting the mug back down on the table. Taeil’s within hearing distance, rooting around the fridge for breakfast, but Johnny knows it’s too early for him to even try and process the English.

“I was looking on twitter and someone wrote ‘Johnny should give Ten a creampie.” He explains, and Johnny almost feels bad for him. Ten’s too naïve for his own good. “I just don’t understand why they want you to make me food? It’s not like you’re that good a cook or anything?”

Jesus fucking Christ. Johnny clears his throat, tries to ignore the flush that’s surely working its way up his neck, and carefully says, “I don’t know, man, you know how fans are.”

Ten still has his eyebrows all scrunched together like he’s overthinking it. “So, will you?”

“Will I what?”

Without blinking, Ten says, “Will you give me a creampie?”

Okay. So, Johnny’s dick twitches in interest as soon as the words leave Ten’s mouth, and he’s left sitting there, half hard in his sweatpants and feeling like the biggest creep in the world, but he still doesn’t want to explain. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But Johnny,” Ten whines, and Johnny should have known he would pull this shit, the persistent fucker. Ten doesn’t take no for an answer when it comes to Johnny. “But what if I _want_ a cream pie?”

“Uh…” a voice chimes in. Johnny feels his soul leave his body the second he turns around and finds Mark standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes widened comically.

Johnny wonders what he should say. Somehow, he thinks ‘ _Hey Mark, if you look closely, you will be able to see me sweating and concealing this stiffy as we speak because Ten asked me to give him a creampie and now I want to bust a nut in his ass, but you know what, feel free to ignore us and grab some breakfast because you’re still a growing boy’_ wouldn’t go over very well.

“Hey Mark,” Ten says, saving Johnny the trouble, “Why do all these fans want Johnny to bake me a cream pie? Is this American slang or something?” After a second, he adds thoughtfully, “You’re not even American though…”

Mark glances at Johnny, expression practically pleading for an explanation. Johnny just shrugs and takes another bitter sip of coffee.

“I don’t think they want him to bake you anything,” Mark finally says, his face reddening.

Johnny finishes the last of his coffee and gets up to put the cup in the sink. “Maybe you should just look it up,” he advises Ten before brushing past Mark to return to his room.

Taeyong’s bed is empty, but it’s perfectly made. Before he’d left for the studio, he’d also cleaned up around Johnny’s bed, straightening the sheets out and folding the blankets. Johnny feels distinctively guilty for collapsing straight into them and messing them up again, but his days off are few and far between, so he’ll take all the lazing around he can get.

Only, he can’t exactly laze around when Ten’s sweet voice is ricocheting off the inside of his head. _Will you give me a creampie?_

Wow, Johnny really needs to get off more. A simple question shouldn’t be enough to set him off this much, but with Taeyong constantly in their room and up in his business, it’s getting a little hard to find time to beat his meat.

And _Ten_ of all people. Ten, who Johnny trusts with everything, who’d been the first person to know that yeah, Johnny likes dick too.

Ten, who’d kissed him in the name of experimenting because Johnny had been so confused when he’d first arrived in Seoul to stay.

“It’s easy,” Ten had said then, when neither of them bothered to communicate in Korean, when Johnny’s hair had been its natural black color, “Kiss me as practice, and if you’re into it, you’re probably into guys.”

And so, they’d shared one brief, clumsy kiss under the harsh dance studio lights in the middle of the night, when all the other trainees had left, and Johnny had confessed, “I think I’m definitely into guys.”

It hadn’t been a good kiss by far. In fact, it’s probably one of the worst kisses Johnny’s had in his life, (including the one after homecoming his sophomore year, behind the cafeteria dumpsters because they couldn’t find anywhere else to do it.) They’re both sweaty from dance practice, and Ten’s lips are chapped because he never remembers to drink enough water, but inexplicably, Johnny’s heart had begun racing in his chest

They’ve never talked about it in depth, mostly because Johnny’s too weirded out by the whole thing to think about it more than he has to. It’s faded to something of a party story more than anything in his mind, like, _hey, remember that time we kissed and I thought I had a weird gay crush on you, haha_.

Only, maybe Johnny _does_ have a weird gay crush on Ten and everything is a huge mess because Johnny’s so low key about his whole liking guys thing and Ten practically flaunts it, and Johnny’s never had that kind of confidence, and now he really _really_ just wants to fuck Ten and maybe even take him out to dinner and kiss him silly because wow, Johnny really does have a big gay crush on him.

Johnny has so many messy complicated feelings built up in his chest he wants to scream.

He’s still wallowing in his own self-loathing when a soft knock comes from the direction of the door, and although he wishes he could just will whoever it is to go away, he knows that they’ll just keep persisting because that’s just how things are in this dorm.

“Come in,” he groans from his blanket cave. Ah, to be able to be a hermit for just one day.

Mark enters the room hesitantly eyeing the direction of his bed. God, it’s not like Johnny would be jerking it like this out in the open. Who does Mark think he is.

“Hey, dude.” Mark laughs nervously, like he’d rather be anywhere else. “So, Ten hyung’s watching porn in the kitchen now. I thought you should know.”

“And?”

“He doesn’t have headphones on.”

Johnny is going to have an aneurism. He sits up reluctantly, and Mark says, “Dude, you should have just told him what it was.”

“You could have too,” Johnny counters, stalking past the younger boy. “You have three seconds to get out of here, Mark Lee, unless you really wanna see my dick that bad.”

Mark makes a choked noise, hurriedly backing out of the room.

Johnny squeezes his lips together hard, gathers all his courage, and stomps all the way over to the kitchen. Ten’s curled up in the chair in a way Johnny would never be able to achieve because of his height, his chin propped up on his fist. He’s watching some woman get reamed like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, eyes narrowed on the dick that drives into her.

Johnny can feel the beginning of a headache start along his temple.

Ten looks up at him, eyes brightening. “Hyung, I found a whole bunch of videos in the creampie section!” he says with a huge smile on his face.

Johnny slams the laptop shut with one hand, effectively cutting off the exaggerated obscene moans that are playing from the speakers, and in the same breath, wraps his hands under Ten’s propped up knee and around his waist, and swiftly picks the smaller boy up.

Ten yelps as Johnny carries him away from the kitchen, calling, “Donghyuck, help me, I’m being kidnapped!”

Donghyuck calls back, “Can you please either do that in your own dorm next time or get better taste in porn?”

Ten huffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a chastised child. “Traitor,” he hisses under his breath.

Johnny kicks the door shut behind them and drops Ten on his bed, and the younger boy frowns up at him. “I was educating myself.”

“You can’t just watch that shit on full blast in the middle of the dorm,” Johnny sighs, “We have minors here.”

Ten looks at him, unimpressed. “We have minors in every dorm.”

A valid point. However, Johnny is a Responsible Adult, so he puts his hands on his hips and starts, “Ten, you know you can’t j-“

Ten lunges up before Johnny can finish, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s neck, pulling him down to the bed. Johnny’s solid enough that he could probably resist if he wanted to, but Ten takes him by surprise, dragging him down against the mattress.

In a flash, Johnny’s against the bed, Ten holding his hands above his head, using both his hands because just one isn’t big enough to pin Johnny’s wrists. If Johnny weren’t so tense, he’d laugh at how endearing that is.

“Listen up, _Seo Young Ho_.” All three syllables, all stretched out. Johnny’s practically quaking.  

Ten leans in close, puffs up his cheeks, and blows air into his face. It makes him scrunch his eyes shut and twist his neck to look the other way. “Do you really think I needed to look up some fake ass porn? That I couldn’t have just done a google search?”

Johnny presses his lips together hard. His last braincell is working overtime trying to fathom what the hell Ten is talking about. Ten’s eccentric enough that him watching porn out in the open really _isn’t_ that uncharacteristic.

“I don’t understand,” he says, feeling like the world’s biggest dumbass.

“Sit up,” Ten says abruptly, letting go of his hands and sitting back. Johnny sits up, still quite confused.

They sit across from each other, cross legged, and Ten takes a minute to think before he says, “I’m trying to say that I wouldn’t mind if you…maybe… did that to me.”

“Oh,” Johnny says, dumbfounded. It takes him a second to process, his eyes widening in shock. “ _Oh_.”

Ten sighs, crawling forward into Johnny’s lap and straddles him, thick thighs squeezing around Johnny’s waist. For someone Johnny’s always thought of as fairly skinny, Ten’s got some thick ass thighs. Johnny can’t say he’s complaining, though, especially when he grabs a handful and pulls Ten closer.

Ten’s hands come up to curl over his face, and Johnny has to look up to meet his eyes at this angle. Ten holds his face in his hands, and Johnny flushes in embarrassment. Ten’s too good at this.

For a minute, Ten just keeps his palms on Johnny’s cheeks, forcing the older boy to look up at him, and it’s possibly the most anxiety inducing thing he’s ever done because Ten’s just _staring_ , his wide dark eyes boring into Johnny’s own.

“You’re blushing,” Ten says, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing smile. “Is that how embarrassed you are about this whole thing?”

“Or,” he adds as an afterthought, tongue peeking out of his mouth to sweep over his lower lip. Johnny follows the movement with his eyes. “Is it because you’re imagining doing that to me?”

Johnny’s lips part of their own accord to let out a shuddery uneven breath, and Ten’s eyes glimmer with mischief. “Both,” he says finally.

Johnny’s heart picks up its pace as Ten leans in until they’re centimetres apart. “Relax,” he reminds, and his lips brush Johnny’s with every word. “It’s just me.”

Ten says _just me_ like he doesn’t know how intimidating that alone makes this for Johnny. Ten has always been out of reach, just a cut above what’s on his level. Johnny’s not bad at this by any standards, but Ten makes his hands clammy, nerves eating away at his insides until he can’t think straight.

Letting his eyes slip shut, Johnny leans in just a bit, carefully slanting their lips together in a kiss.

Johnny’s thought about how he’d want to change that messy, secretive first kiss they’d shared so long ago, if given the chance. That had been an inexperienced, shy brush of the lips.

This is fireworks going off behind Johnny’s eyelids, his heart thudding in his throat when Ten makes a soft noise and tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding warm against the seam of Johnny’s mouth, forcing him to open up.

Then Ten is pulling Johnny’s hair, and Johnny shudders under him half in pain, half in pleasure, and tightens the arms he has wrapped around the younger boy.

 Ten breaks away first, his cheeks flushed a warm pink that looks lovely against his tan skin, and he says, “Do you understand now?”

Johnny’s still dazed from the kiss, his mind not working properly. “You’d let me cum inside you.” Too late, he realizes the words that have just left his mouth and his jaw drops in shock at his own gall.

Before he can apologize, Ten bites his lip and looks down at his lap. “You’re… not wrong.”

Johnny is so close to losing his shit when Ten slides off his lap and squints at him. “Hold on,” he says, “I’ll be right back.”

He slips out of the room, and Johnny’s left sitting in his room by himself about to panic because Ten just _kissed_ him before he’d even come to terms with his Big Gay Crush and now Ten’s left to go do… _something_.

For an awful second, Johnny imagines Ten not coming back, Ten regretting their kiss, and he has to take several deep breaths to calm himself down because it’s Ten, and he’d never do that.

Still, his shoulders slump in relief when Ten slips back into the room, the pocket of his hoodie bulging with a familiar shaped bottle.

“Oh,” Johnny says dumbly, “You brought lube.”

“You won’t believe where I found this,” Ten says cheerily, removing a half empty tube from his pocket, “Yukhei’s sock drawer? I’m going to die. How does he pick up people when he can barely speak without stuttering?”

Ten tosses the lube into Johnny’s lap (he has to bat it away to avoid it hitting his dick because holy shit, _ouch_ ) and says, “You know what else I saw in there? Cherry flavored condoms. Like… who the fuck knows what other kinds of gross flavored shit he has in there.”

Johnny takes a second to try and erase from his mind what kind of condoms Yukhei likes, then faces the fact that it’s going to stick in his head for the rest of time, probably.

Ten hops back onto the bed, grabs his shoulders and pulls him into another kiss, this time deeper. Ten’s mouth feels inherently right on his own, their lips slotting together over and over, and warmth pools in his stomach when Ten curls a hand over the curve of his jaw to hold him closer.

Johnny’s mind is still a jumbled mess of nerves and worry, but thankfully his body acts on instinct, his hands traveling down on their own accord, palms rubbing into Ten’s hips, then lower still to cup the curve of his ass, squeezing. Ten makes a tiny pleased noise into his mouth, and Johnny can’t help but do it again in hopes of hearing that sound again.

Ten pulls away, pausing to shed his shirt quickly, tossing it over his head and onto the floor. Johnny’s shirt goes off as well, followed by his pants, and then he’s just sitting there in briefs, feeling oddly exposed. Ten says, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, don’t worry.” And begins pulling at the waistband of his briefs.

It’s true that they’ve seen each other naked before- they all have. It’s unavoidable, when they’ve been training together and living together for so long, but it’s never been in this context.

Ten pulls Johnny’s briefs down slowly, and his cock immediately curves up towards his stomach, embarrassingly hard, and Ten’s lips curl into a smile. “Interesting,” he says ominously.

“What?” Johnny asks, face warming up. Is there something wrong with his dick?

Ten presses a kiss to his collarbone, trails kisses up his neck to the edge of his jaw, then flicks his tongue over the shell of Johnny’s ear, and whispers, his breath warm, “Nothing, hyung. I just want you so bad.”

Johnny’s hands shake as he flips open the cap to the tube of lubricant, pours some into his palm, and immediately cringes when too much winds up spilling through his fingers and onto the sheets.

Ten shakes his head grimly. “Taeyong hyung’s going to kill you for ruining the bed.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Johnny replies, equally as solemn.

Ten flops onto his back then, shimmying out of his sweatpants and tossing them over the side of the bed as well. “You know what’s really going to set Taeyong off,” he teases, “Is if we fucked in his bed at some point.”

“Next time,” Johnny says, and then balks. Next time. Because there is going to be a next time.

Ten grins at him, and it’s full of mischief, and Johnny realizes that maybe there _will_ be a next time, and maybe a time after that, too. God, it’s too much to wrap his head around when he has Ten clad in only boxers in front of him, his thighs thick and muscular and so fucking _distracting_.

Then Ten drags those down his legs too, and he’s naked and Johnny is also naked and they’re just staring at each other like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen each other.

In a way, it is the first time he’s seen Ten, in this light, at least. He’s never dared to think of the younger boy as anything but platonic, but now, spread out in front of him, Johnny finds himself thinking about how much potential there is here between them.

Johnny presses his middle finger to Ten’s hole, and bites his lip. A million worries run through his head all at once. Are his nails too long? Is he using enough lube? Is it going to hurt?

But then Ten grabs his wrist, looking at him with dark, sincere eyes. “I trust you,” he whispers serenely.

Johnny works a finger into him slowly, and it’s different from anything he’s ever felt before. Ten’s tight around his finger, muscles clenching up and then gradually relaxing, his walls slick around the digit.

Pretty soon, Johnny presses in a second finger, and Ten exhales sharply, his flat stomach going concave, and Johnny can’t help pressing his fingers to the flexed muscles of his abdomen for a second, just feeling them out.

Ten winds up giggling, batting his hands away. “That tickles,” he murmurs, then looks away bashfully.

Johnny probably spends more time than necessary fucking his fingers into Ten, but he wants to make absolutely sure that Ten’s stretched out enough that he won’t be uncomfortable at any point in time. He doesn’t realize that Ten’s actually getting anything out of it until he looks up at the younger boy’s face and finds it all scrunched up in restraint, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Is this… good?” Johnny asks hesitantly.

“It’s awful,” Ten groans, and when Johnny goes to slide his fingers out, he grabs for the older boy’s wrist, pushing them back in, saying, “Don’t ever stop.”

Eventually, Ten grabs Johnny’s wrist and stops him from crooking his fingers again, and murmurs, “Okay, stop for real before I cum from this.”

Johnny didn’t know that was even possible- he makes a mental bookmark to try it out some other time.

As he lets his fingers slip out and Ten looks up at him, eyes wide with trust and affection, he finds himself nervous again. Everything up till now’s been foreplay, but this is the real deal. Johnny’s heart can’t walk away from this unscathed.

The first time Johnny tries pressing into Ten, his dick slips through all the lube and misses, and Ten giggles until Johnny frowns up at him. He’s only done this with girls before. This is uncharted territory, literally.

“Take your time,” Ten says, hiding a smile behind his hand. Then, in a more serious voice, “It’s really okay, you know. We don’t have to rush it.”

“S’okay,” Johnny mumbles, gripping his dick tightly (god, he really doesn’t want to embarrass himself again) and pressing the blunt head against the tight pucker of Ten’s hole, “I trust you to be gentle with me.”

Ten scoffs, reaching over to tangle his hands in Johnny’s hair again, and he tugs gently. “Says the one who’s twice my size.”

The second time he tries, to his own surprise, it works. One second, he’s cracking jokes about his sensitive heart, and the next, the head of his cock’s sheathed in unbearably tight heat, Ten’s walls clamping down on him, and Ten groans, “Warn me next time, oh my god,” arching up off the bed.

Ten’s fingers curl painfully tight into his hair, so much so that his roots tingle, and Johnny finds that he kind of enjoys the dull ache of pain against the overpowering pleasure.

The slide’s tight, but Johnny goes as slow as possible, inching into the younger boy, and Ten lets his hair go, hands sliding down to grip Johnny’s biceps, using his thumb nail to absently scrape one of the veins that stand out against his skin. “You can go a little faster,” he says finally, his face suspiciously red. “I can take it.”

“I bet you can,” Johnny mumbles without thinking. The second the words finish leaving his mouth, he goes wide eyed in surprise. It’s easy to tease Ten when they’re being platonic and casual, but to say something so unthinking at such a moment- Johnny feels so dumb.

Ten just smirks. “It’s not me I’m worried about, baby.”

The pet name makes a shiver of desire run through Johnny’s body, makes him warm from his stomach down to his fingertips where they’re holding Ten’s hips. The expression on Ten’s face is a call to challenge, and this, at least, Johnny knows he can do without messing up.

He bottoms out all the way, and Ten moans, long and drawn out, clutching his biceps so hard that he leaves stinging crescent marks from his nails on them.

“You’re worried about me?” Johnny asks with a teasing smile. He takes a deep breath, and it helps him gain his bearings a little. It’s just Ten. Ten, who he trusts more than anything. Ten, who watches porn on full blast at risk of his own embarrassment just because he wants to sleep with Johnny.

Ten narrows his eyes very slightly. “You’re teasing me,” he accuses. “You’re not even really nervous, are you?”

He reaches up between them, presses his hand to Johnny’s chest, and Johnny’s about to remind him gently, “there’s nothing to grab there,” but then he realizes Ten’s feeling his heartbeat, and it makes his pulse skip.

“There,” Ten breathes, eyes bright with satisfaction, “I knew it. I’m making your heart race.”

Johnny’s balls deep, and he wishes they were having this conversation at _any_ other time than when he’s trying his best not to cum too early, but he grits his teeth and tries very hard not to thrust into the tight heat clamped down around his cock. “You’re right,” he agrees, because it’s true. Ten sends his pulse racing with almost no effort.

Once they start though, the tables turn so easily. Johnny rolls his hips up into Ten, and the younger boy twitches, his lower lip pulled between his teeth to muffle any noises that threaten to escape his mouth, and with every slow thrust of Johnny’s hips, Ten lets out a sharp breath, whining quietly when Johnny grabs his ankle and pulls it away from his body, spreading his legs open wider.

Ten’d been so confident at the beginning, and Johnny had been so shaky handed and nervous, but Ten slowly unravels under him with every thrust of his hips, hanging onto Johnny’s shoulders, mumbling an incoherent combination of Thai and English and Korean that Johnny could barely decipher even if he could focus, the only logical word that Johnny catches being a strangled gasp of “ _please_ , please, please,” and it drives him absolutely up the wall.

Johnny fucks him slow, every thrust jerking him up the bed, and Ten cries out each time, a broken “ _ah, ah, ah_ ,” his nails scraping down Johnny’s arms, and he’s sure there will be red welts on them later, but he can’t bring himself to mind when the stinging sensation feels so fucking good.

Johnny’s done his research. He knows if he does this right, it’s going to get Ten off much easier. He says, “Tell me what feels good.”

Ten bites his lip hard, looking up at him almost shyly, “Everything,” he mumbles eventually, “Because it’s you. Anything you do feels good.”

Johnny almost cums then and there. Ten looks so cute when he’s flustered, his cheeks flushed a shade darker than the rest of his face, eyebrows scrunched together, his eyelashes fluttering as he tries looking anywhere but Johnny’s face.

“Stop staring at me,” Ten whines, “It’s embarrassing.”

Johnny shakes off his trance and leans down, presses their lips together in a messy kiss, one that gets disturbed every time their bodies shift against each other.

Suddenly, Ten jerks, letting out the most obscene moan Johnny has ever heard. It puts the porno he’d had on his laptop earlier to shame. “There,” Ten gasps into his mouth, “It’s good there,”

“I thought anything was good.” Johnny can’t help but snark, but Ten smacks his chest and demands, “ _There_ , hyung,” and Johnny’s resolve to tease crumbles.

Johnny fucks into him hard, and Ten’s cries grow louder with every snap of his hips, his voice breathy and ragged. Johnny’s breathing is also becoming erratic, his lungs frantic for air.

“Come inside me,” Ten practically sobs, “inside, inside, please,” and wraps his leg around Johnny’s waist, his heel digging into Johnny’s hip, urging him deeper. Johnny lets go of all his self-control, loses himself to the sweet ache of pleasure.

Johnny cums gasping Ten’s name, and Ten groans as his dick twitches inside him, squirming at the feeling of Johnny cumming inside him.

Johnny’s arms nearly give out under him, and he narrowly avoids crushing Ten’s tiny frame with his own by catching himself on his elbows. Suddenly, their faces are much to close together and Ten stares, eyes heavy lidded. “Wow,” he whispers, out of breath.

Johnny leans down a little, brushes their lips together, and echoes quietly, “Very wow.”

He takes a second to give his heart time to stop racing before he sits up, his cock slipping out of Ten, and it makes Ten groan in discomfort.

“Can I get you off?” Johnny asks, his eyes already on Ten’s flushed cock between his legs. Lower, Johnny’s cum is seeping out of him, milky white, and Johnny follows the slow trail of it down the curve of his ass to the bed.

Ten gestures like _go ahead_ and rests his hands on his stomach. “If you think you can.” He adds teasingly.

Johnny’s never jerked off a guy before, but he figures it’s similar to doing it to himself, so he tries what he likes, rubbing a thumb over the head of Ten’s dick, and Ten shudders, squirming under him. It takes him a couple minutes to get the hang of it, but soon enough, Ten’s grabbing onto his forearms, throwing his head back to expose the long column of his neck.

Johnny finds that he likes watching Ten’s reactions to the smallest things. When Johnny makes a fist and firmly slides it down the length of his dick, Ten mewls out his name. When he rubs his thumb into the underside of his cock, Ten throws his head back, murmuring something in Thai that Johnny couldn’t understand if he wanted to.

Finally, Ten chokes out his name, a tiny, desperate, barely audible sigh, and then makes a noise like a sob, his dick twitching in Johnny’s hands, and then he’s cumming, back arching up off the bed, his fingers hanging on tightly to Johnny’s arms.

And Johnny’s got cum on his fingers. Cum that isn’t his.

He feels kind of like he’s having an out of body experience, bringing his hand up to his mouth because he’s been so curious about this, ever since he figured out that he likes boys, but he doesn’t want to taste his own because that’s fucking disgusting even for him-

Ten watches with his lip caught between his teeth as Johnny tentatively sucks one finger into his mouth, and immediately cringes, mouth twisting at the bitter taste. “Oh my god,” Johnny says, wiping the rest of his fingers on the sheets.

“If I’d known you were going to do that I would have eaten better this week.” Ten mumbles sheepishly.

“If I’d known we were going to do that, I would have probably burst into flames some time this week.”

Ten bursts out laughing at that, rolling onto his side so he can face Johnny fully.

“I’m serious,” Johnny frowns, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you? Since the first time, practically.”

“The practice room?” Ten’s kiss-swollen lips fall open in a little surprised ring, and he says, “Seriously? That long? I wasn’t even cute back then.”

“You’ve always been cute.” Johnny says the words seriously, but a second after they’re out, he feels self-conscious, ducking his face down to look at his lap.

Ten sits up with some effort, wincing when his bones crack. “Well, do you know how much effort I put into you figuring out that I like you? Look how far I went this morning. I practically traumatized poor Mark.”

Johnny opens his mouth to respond when through the wall his bed’s pushed up against comes a voice.

“There’s no practically. I’m pretty sure I’m traumatized right now.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/_johnten)


End file.
